hurried over to public information, eager to find out why this man named Daniel Travers had suddenly become so important, and why he would turn up in person with a fictitious story on ASIO’s doorstep.
She explained to Connors’ PA the reason for her call and was quickly ushered into his office.
‘You say he was here?’ asked an incredulous Connors.
‘He spent at least two hours sitting in reception doing puzzles in a book.’
‘But he saw no one, spoke to no one, did nothing out of the ordinary?’
‘He left his book behind.’
‘Do you have it?’
‘On my desk.’
‘I’ll get my PA to go back with you and collect it, along with anything else you have.’
‘Can you tell me what this is all about?’
‘I don’t see why not. Nothing has been classified as yet, and it was even reported in the papers. It seems that our friend Mr Travers was hauled before the ICAC in Sydney yesterday and refused to answer their questions. He claimed that he couldn’t because to do so might impinge on national security. He hinted at a lot of things but the crux of his story seems to be that he was supplying information from the police computer system to a national intelligence agency that he was not at liberty to name. I have his file because an e-mail has come from the ICAC wanting to know if Travers is one of ours.’
‘But surely we couldn’t tell them even if he was one of ours.’
‘I’ve told the ICAC that he’s not one of ours because it’s the truth. ASIO did a routine security check on Daniel Travers as it does on all of the defence force personnel who work in sensitive areas. That is the sum total of what his file contains. The only thing of interest in there is that he has a sealed police file due to some sort of youthful indiscretion.’
‘So he’s never been one of ours.’
‘Never.’
‘Then why did he turn up here?’
‘I could think of several reasons, but the most likely one is that he was telling the truth about his connection to a security agency, but wants to steer speculation as to exactly which one in the wrong direction. Travers was supposedly assigned to the Joint Communication Centre in the Russell offices. Doesn’t it make more sense that he was in reality working for either military intelligence or the one I think most likely the Australian signals intelligence service?’
‘I suppose that makes sense,’ nodded Diane. ‘What will you do with his file now?’
‘I’ll hold onto it until I can speak to the chief of intelligence. I think this is something that should be brought to his attention in case it becomes a problem sometime down the track.’
Diane handed over what little she had on Daniel Travers, but she made a point of copying the slim file before doing so.
On her computer she created a new file under Travers’ name before finally entering a full report of her meeting with the mysterious Daniel Travers.
The enigma of the man’s presence in ASIO’s head office still rankled with Diane, and she felt that there had to be more to his actions. While she had the chance, Diane was determined to dig further.
* * *
‘We’re a couple of cars behind him and we’ve just left Canberra, heading north. I’d guess he’s done what he had to do and now he’s going home.’
‘Well what did he do?’ asked their supervisor at ICAC.
‘Nothing. He sat in the lobby of ASIO doing word puzzles. We saw him being approached by a security guard but nothing came of that, and then he was spoken to by a woman who came from inside. She was dressed in a suit so I think she was higher than a clerk or secretary. I’d guess she might have been an agent.’
‘But not someone who could be named David Jones?’
‘Definitely not. He only spoke to her for a matter of moments and now he’s headed home.’
‘What else happened? What else did he do or say.’
‘He said nothing unusual and he did nothing unusual. When he left he climbed into his ute and we’re following him back to Sydney.’
‘There must be something you missed.’
‘He left his puzzle book behind,’ said Ruth from the driver’s seat.
‘Left it behind?’
‘Yes. I saw the woman pick it up. She still had it when we left to follow Travers.’
‘And Travers had been writing in it for over two hours you say?’ asked their supervisor.
‘That’s right,’ confirmed the man.
‘That has to be it then. He’s made a report of some sort and passed it on to them.’
‘Do you suppose so?’ asked the man.
Ruth shrugged her shoulders, and their supervisor said, ‘That has to be it. Why else would he make this trip? He knew that we were monitoring him so he couldn’t use any conventional forms of communication. He was forced to do it in person.’
‘So you reckon he really is with ASIO?’
‘He’s definitely up to something. I’ll let the judge and the prosecutor know what’s happened and then they can decide what to do next … well what do you know? I’ve just received an e-mail from a Graeme Connors at ASIO. He states categorically that they have no connection with a person named Daniel Travers.’
The agents looked at one another in surprise.
Their supervisor sighed. ‘Well that seals it for me. If Daniel Travers is not working for ASIO then I’m a monkey’s uncle, and I’ll tell the judge exactly that.’
* * *
On the outskirts of Goulburn I felt the utilities engine begin to miss slightly. The LPG gas tank had been hissing ever since I left Canberra so I knew that it was beginning to run low. By now it must be almost completely empty.
I checked in my rear-view mirror to see if my chasers were still there and noted that they had overtaken a vehicle and were separated from me by a single car. I had noted that their car did not have the distinctive red lozenge on its registration plates to indicate that it too used LPG so I hoped that they too must be running very low on fuel.
I was feeling buoyed by my success in Canberra and decided to have some fun at their expense.
I turned my indicator on to show that I was about to turn into a service station, and as I did so I saw them follow.
Pulling up next to the nearest bowser I took the nozzle from the cradle and inserted it into my tank, pretending to fill the car. Further across the station I saw the male agent do the same thing to their car, and as their petrol began to flow I hung up my nozzle and climbed back into my car.
The girl called a warning to her friend but it was too late. I was already pulling out of the service station as he struggled frantically to stop the pump and hang the nozzle back up while his partner ran to the petrol station’s shop to pay for the meagre amount they had managed to take aboard.
I headed back out onto the highway with a smile of triumph on my face. It didn’t matter if they caught up to me now as they would soon run out of petrol and become stranded somewhere further north.
For my own part, I reached down and flicked a switch. My faltering motor gave a sudden surge as the thin remains of LPG gas were replaced by my alternate tank full of petrol.
* * *
‘The bastard knew we were behind him and he’s given us the slip,’ the male follower reported.
‘He